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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947653">Boat Race</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherKat/pseuds/MotherKat'>MotherKat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:22:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29947653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherKat/pseuds/MotherKat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime you need to reconnect with your roots.<br/>Spike &amp; Giles have something in common</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rupert Giles &amp; Spike</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Boat Race</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Boat Race</p><p>noun: a race between people rowing or driving boats<br/>types:<br/>sailing-race, yacht race<br/>a race between crews of people in yachts<br/>type of:<br/>race<br/>a contest of speed<br/>Disambiguation:<br/>British a rowing event held annually in the spring, in which an eight representing Oxford University rows against one representing Cambridge University on the Thames between Putney and Mortlake initiated in 1829</p><p>Disambiguation:<br/>Cockney Rhyming Slang for face</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Spike stood under a navy golf umbrella holding a crowded grocery bag and feeling like an utter pillock. “Rupert I know you’re in there, I can hear you, open the bloody door.”</p><p> </p><p>Rupert Giles having set his nest up on the couch didn’t really want to answer the door to the door to the peroxided vampire but knew he’d get no peace until he did, and his neighbours, as forgiving as they were, would likely not appreciate the 05:30am serenade of curse words. Stubbing his toe on the table as he stood he pulled open the door, “What on god’s green earth could you possibly want Spike?”</p><p> </p><p>Spike stood in his dark blue shirt and Corpus Christi Scarf, he wordlessly pulled the bottle of imported Pimms from the grocery bag.</p><p> </p><p>Giles blinked, “of course you’re a Christi,” he spoke as if that made all the sense in the world.</p><p> </p><p>“Ere, I was Pembroke for Undergrad, never made the 8, but still”. Spike looked injured.</p><p> </p><p>“Get inside you swot” Giles ushered Spike to the kitchen, and grabbed a large jug down. Wordlessly they chopped fruit and combined the botanical with brandy and champagne in the booziest of boat race traditions.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t get ESPN in the crypt?” Giles asked dryly but companionably.</p><p> </p><p>Spike looked at his glass, “Of course I can, but I could watch it alone or with fellow Alum, well, seemed like it might make a nice change, get it on or we’ll miss the toss.”</p><p> </p><p>Rupert Giles shook his head, “you’re a ridiculous vampire William. Anyway, I barely count, half a history degree from St Hughs does not an Oxford graduate make.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a ridiculous watcher then you dirty drop out.” Spike raised his glass with a 2 finger salute, his voice holding no real malice, “St Hughs” he scoffed, “wasn’t even a bloody college in my day.”</p><p> </p><p>Giles quirked his head, “What did you go out for?” his tone was softly curious.</p><p> </p><p>“Thought I told you when I was petitioning for your blessing,” Spike’s sardonic smile was tinged with pain.</p><p> </p><p>Giles sighed, “You were serious? I thought you were puffing it up.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope” he popped the p, “modern languages and linguistics undergrad then philosophy, politics and economics in the MCR”.</p><p> </p><p>The contents of the jug waned as the television showed an overhead pan of a cool spring day in Hammersmith and the quiet commentary spoke of the storied history of the Oxford Cambridge boat race.</p><p> </p><p>Giles looked wistful, “I was so bloody angry when I was there, I never appreciated it really.”</p><p> </p><p>Spike’s eyebrow spoke its own language, “I was too wet to appreciate it, never even snogged a Pimms girl.”</p><p> </p><p>Giles snorted a laugh, “Not sure I’d trade your seat in the Middle Common Room for that experience my man.”</p><p> </p><p>They shared a laugh and Spike jumped up to refill the jug with the heady cocktail, “no gettin’ ideas Rupert.” Spike grinned cheekily as he put the jug down, “even if I am prettier than half the river doxies.”</p><p> </p><p>“Tosser” Giles spat out with laughter, “2 hrs until cox off, shall we push the pawns around?”</p><p> </p><p>Spike who was still on his feet fetched the board across and they proceeded to match wits across the chess board whilst getting considerably more sloshed.</p><p> </p><p>Giles considered him darkly as Spike took his bishop and thoroughly unravelled his Birmingham Gambit, “Why couldn’t it have been you?”</p><p> </p><p>"Beggin your pardon Rupes, What is it I'm remiss of?" Spike's vernacular veered wildly between RP and dockland slang as his cups set in.</p><p> </p><p>Giles scowled, "how different her life would have been if you'd have pressed suit before Angelus broke her, broke us all." He hiccoughed and tried to press a queen's gambit, losing a knight in the process.</p><p> </p><p>Spike looked at Giles softly, "she was born about a century too late for us to have met before Angelus broke me" Spike's armour slammed back up, "Anyhow, she's got Captain Cardboard keepin' her up at night now, Angel de light."</p><p> </p><p>Giles burst out laughing, "oh that's rather good, I'd favoured Territorial Arsehole or Weekend Wazzock."</p><p> </p><p>Spike’s loquacious eyebrows were at it again, not a fan of the camouflaged kleenex then Rupes?"</p><p> </p><p>"He is criminally incurious" Giles sniffed</p><p> </p><p>"I'll drink to that" said Spike as he bounced out of his seat and refilled the pitcher.</p><p> </p><p>The 2 men moved the board aside to focus on the race, they muttered about heritage for a while until it became clear that neither of them had any idea about current form or even who was on the boat this year, and so they turned to boat races past.</p><p> </p><p>"Most ridiculous was 1877, I was still alive then, bloody thing was a dead heat apparently, the Henley bookies all bought their own horses that year, I swear that's where half the Arabians in Lambourne came from".</p><p> </p><p>"1920 was a magic race, didn't see it myself, was on my travels, listened on the captain's wireless, just listening to the hope in those boys' hearts, that war was done, was a thing of beauty, you'd have loved the 20s Rupert, bloody loved them".</p><p> </p><p>"The 87 mutiny was bloody funny" Giles exclaimed, "all those stroppy Yanks".</p><p> </p><p>"Bloody hell yes, when the team captain swapped the ringers and benched the 3rd, and we still took it in 3" Spike laughed loudly as Giles interjected with "4, I'm sure it was 4." </p><p> </p><p>They argued back and forth good naturedly as the boats lined up at Hammersmith, agreeing, as good Oxford men should, that the Race was better at Henley.</p><p> </p><p>With Cambridge coming in 2 lengths ahead there were cries of poor show and another pitcher of Oxford style Royal Cup was made and Spike brought out the final treat from his overstuffed grocery bags, oysters in shell with a side of shallots and tobasco.<br/>"Another glorious invention out of the Mayor's Oyster houses" Spike declared loudly to no-one as the Old Oxonions toasted long gone acquaintances they did not share until passing out in a pile of oyster shells and half eaten cucumber.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a mad vanity work, as you may or may not be able to tell, I grew up around those parts, was a Pimms girl on the river myself back in the day.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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